Shattered Emeralds
by KorosuKa
Summary: A more serious thought about Poland. Facing parts of his past, present and perhaps future. oneshot


**BIG THANKS TO DrivebyReader ! For helping me with this~**

**Author's Note:** This is a thought of Poland. No specific person. Varying from past, present and future. It's quite 'depressive' and no happy sunshine and rainbow-puking ponies.

**PLEASE READ!** There's reference to:  
The Phoenix: a mysterious flaming bird that revives from her own ashes. (Poland compares himself to this magical creature) Poland's shyness of strangers. The Polish-Lithuania Commonwealth: Poland and Lithuania ruled together over a huge land (including Belarus, Ukraine, Latvia, Estonia, Moldova, Slovakia, a part of Russia and I think also a little part of Prussia). Friendship between Poland and Lithuania: The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. End of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth: They were parted by Russia who took Lithuania with him to the Soviet Union. Lithuania 'betraying' Poland: A long period before WW2 relations between Poland and Lithuania weren't good at all. In 1938, just before WW2 things were finally coming at normal terms between the two countries. During the war Lithuania was indepentend for a short period but became part of the Soviet Union, then it was occupied by Germany and then again by the Soviet Union. Which means that during that period Lithuania had always been (forced to be) on the side of the enemie against Poland. Ukraine: During the Commonwealth Ukraine was forced to make some changes (like becoming a Catholic country), though Poland only wanted to spread what he believed was good Ukraine had rather kept things the way they were. After a while Ukraine started a major rebellion and it ended in a request that gradually supplanted Polish influence.

I did some research so please take a few seconds to read it, feel free to correct me though if you see any mistakes~

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You learn a lot observing people.  
Everyone has a little dark side peeking through him; it whispers quotes of death or screams lyrics of pain.  
People tend to hide their thoughts for the outside world; this nation covered things with shameless pride.  
The story of this nation who once ruled over such great territory, the man who once thought had everything he could wish for; he is no exception.  
But through all those years, he maintained the same traits.  
He stands in pride, in noble position, being the strong nation he is, being the boss over whatever his heart longs for.  
His character had barely changed over all the centuries that passed.

His playful smile always had an offensive side. As if he was laughing at you, as if the devil himself took a glance through those emerald eyes and the crushing look flamed on you.

The blonde had always wanted the best, did not look up to anyone nor looked like he had any respect for others.  
That fiery temper and blasting attitude wrapped themselves around someone who looked over everyone like a king glares over his slaves.  
Even opposing his greatest enemies he dares not to let the fire fade.  
The Pole would fight until his last breath. The last breath that sweeps up the ashes and kindles the fire, from which he takes a new breath and revives.

Unbeatable, but not unbreakable.

He might find himself towering over all the others, but the little details can give his little flaws away.  
The way his muscles stiffen when he meets a stranger, the deep mistrust brooding in his eyes, creating his blind spot.  
For all those years there have been sides of this person that up to today remain mere shadows for the rest of the theatre.  
The world is one big play he thinks he's watching, even though he knows well enough that he is a miserable puppet himself.

He's scared, he's sickly scared of all that moves around in this world.  
He has seen the blood of his beloved people flow over his streets, the corpses decorating his capital.  
The sound of gunshots, dying people and the crying mother waiting for her son to return, it had been his everyday lullaby.

He despises everything in this world with a hate that may be blessed by his greatest Lord.  
The flashy green eyes have seen death and despair, left alone in the mess others made.  
The grudge he bares against life, the life that he has been given and the life he regains every time he thinks he will finally be released from.  
Why suffering and dying for all those years? Then rebuilding the cities, brick after brick.

Everything he had slowly turned into everything he lost.

The friendship he treasured with the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, he lost to Russia.  
The love he harboured for his precious Ukraine drove him to wanting it so badly that while grabbing for his dear desire, his greedy hands scratched the surface. They made irremovable scars in his beloved girl.  
Has she ever forgiven him?

But right now, behind his bitter façade, he looks like he only yearns for something to hold in his arms, something he knows would not leave him.

Something that would not betray him and could warm his little heart.  
It would soak his tears and smother his whispers.  
But that's not what he needs.  
The strong nation doesn't need anything to hold in his trembling hands.  
Everything would slip through his fingers, like sand, some like water, perhaps like blood; leaving dried stains all over him and he tries to brush everything off with tears of secret sorrow.  
His lips trembling in the forced laugh on his bittersweet face.  
He tries to erase the scars in his heart like he covers the battle scars with fancy clothing.  
Genuine cashmere wrapped around a fracture; everything falls out of his shaking arms.

And he would watch it being torn apart with glassy eyes.

What Feliks needs to long for, is someone who would hold him instead.  
Someone who would take away his leadership and let him be.  
Take away the centuries of burden crushing his tender shoulders.  
Strip him from everything he has covered himself up with.  
See, this little angel sits on his shoulder, and it flies away with his worries and it takes care of his wounds.  
And he'd not have to take care of anyone nor worry whether he'll have enough food to pass the next day.  
Yes, this fierce guardian will come and steal his tears; he won't find them back, they'll be lost in the past.

And maybe for once, he'll change those melancholic emeralds; fill them with kindness and a tender smile caresses his face.

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Read & Review please~


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